Hunting the White Stag
by Sanaryelle
Summary: A middle aged Mr. Tumnus sees the White Stag, notifies the Kings and Queens of Narnia, and deals with his guilt over their sudden disappearance.
1. The White Stag

_A/N: Another Tumnus story – finally!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia, although I do like to play in it._

**Chapter 1: The White Stag…**

…_in which Tumnus sees an Astonishing Sight, and gets a Grand Idea._

Leaves were turning red and gold, yet bright sunlight streamed down between the trees. A lone figure wandered idly through the forest, disturbing the quiet with his slightly off-key humming. He bent occasionally to pick up a stick of firewood, until he gathered a respectable amount. Carefully tying the bundle of sticks with a twist of rope, and knotting it neatly, he sat down on a log to rest.

Mr. Tumnus was now a middle-aged Faun, and he was not as fit as he used to be. Puffing slightly, he mopped his damp brow with the end of his scarf, which was draped loosely about his neck. The red woollen muffler was ragged and patched, yet Tumnus continued to wear it out of long habit, despite Mrs. Beaver's objections that it was "no better than an old rag" and "deserved to be thrown in the bin."

The Faun frowned as he remembered her nagging words. "'Thrown in a bin' indeed!" he snorted. Mrs. Beaver baked the best bread in the Western Woods, and she and Mr. Beaver were the finest neighbours any Faun could ask for. But Tumnus was incredibly fond of his red muffler, and not ashamed to confess his odd sort of sentimentality. Mr. Beaver merely chortled and remarked that it was a sign of old age. "'Old age' _indeed!_" Mr. Tumnus scoffed petulantly.

The Faun opened a small wickerwork basket that he had brought along, and proceeded to lay out a picnic lunch. Atop the checkered cloth he set a generous stack of toast, some marmalade, a wedge of yellow cheese, two russet apples, and a bottle of milk. The days of purchasing food secretly from traders, who smuggled supplies from Calormene, were over. Crops, gardens, and orchards had flourished in the rich Narnian soil.

Tumnus ruefully looked down at his midsection, which was beginning to get quite plump from years of soft living. Then with a cheerful shrug, he reached for the cheese.

As he ate his meal, the Faun allowed his contented mind to wander. Kings Peter and Edmund, and Queens Susan and Lucy, had ruled for fifteen years – a wonderful fifteen years. Narnia had been restored to its former glory: Nymphs and Dryads came fearlessly out of their wells and trees to dance with the Fauns all through the night; the Red Dwarfs openly welcomed visitors to feast with them and delve for treasure in their deep mines; and Bacchus himself had come only last summer, the rivers flowing red with wine as the forest-folk gave themselves up to revelry.

Tumnus finished his meal and drained the milk-bottle, wiping white froth from his curly beard. He gave a contented sigh and patted his full belly, before pushing himself up to his hooves. The Faun fastidiously tucked away the picnic things, not forgetting to brush crumbs from the tablecloth with his finicky fingers. Hoisting the bundle of wood with one hand and picking up the basket with the other, Mr. Tumnus turned to head for home.

He froze in his tracks, scarcely daring to breathe.

There, standing at the crest of a hillock a short distance away, stood a pure-white stag.

It slowly turned its magnificent antlered head towards him, and the Faun felt himself being scrutinized by a pair of bright, intelligent eyes. He shivered involuntarily under that wise old gaze.

Mr. Tumnus could scarcely believe what he was seeing. It could be none other than the White Stag, which gave you wishes if you caught it! Basket and firewood tumbled from his hands, hitting the forest floor with a loud clatter. "Oh!" the Faun squeaked in dismay.

The White Stag sprang nimbly into a thicket. The spell was broken.

Tumnus bent and scooped up the scattered sticks and dishes, piling them haphazardly into his arms in his haste. As the Faun trotted back to his little cave, leaving a trail of cutlery and fragments of leftover food in his wake, his head buzzed with excitement. He was panting and blowing as he scurried through the underbrush, cursing himself furiously for having grown so stout. Why, in the days of eternal winter, he'd had to walk for miles and miles – uphill in blowing snow! – just to buy supplies from the secret traders.

As he scampered over a small rise, he started to smile to himself. He couldn't wait to spread the news! He'd muster up a hunting party at once, and it would be just like old times...

…but no.

Tumnus stopped still, three sticks of firewood slipping unheeded from his arms.

The honour of hunting the White Stag after its long absence from Narnia should be reserved for their Majesties. The last time the Stag had appeared had been long before their reign, and it was only fitting. Tumnus nodded to himself happily. Yes, that sounded right.

The Faun grinned as he imagined the look on Queen Lucy's face. Hitching up basket and firewood more securely, he continued on to his little cave.

_A/N: A bit of a slow intro, I know, but necessary to set the scene. The next chapter will be better, for Tumnus is going to the palace! Review, please?_


	2. The White Castle

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, both of you! Frankly, originally the first chapter – well – _sucked_. But I went back and touched it up a bit, and I like it a lot better now. I hope you enjoy the second chapter!_

_Disclaimer: Narnia is my mental playground. And not mental as in "crazy", although I suppose that could apply as well…_

**Chapter 2: The White Castle…**

…_in which Tumnus Tries to Gain Access to the Palace, with Mixed Results._

"Tumnus… Tumnus… I am sorry, but you are not on the list."

"The list?" Tumnus repeated, perplexed.

He was standing in an antechamber, having been directed there by the formidable centaur gatekeepers of Cair Paravel. It was an enormous circular room of marble, with numerous desks placed all around the edge. Harassed-looking clerks sitting behind those desks were speaking with creatures of all shapes and sizes, Narnians who had some business or other at Cair Paravel. Tumnus himself was talking to a large bear.

He looked about the loud bustle of the antechamber, and glanced hopefully at the open archway beyond that led into the inner recesses of the palace.

The young bear adjusted gold-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose, and peered down again at the sheaf of papers. "Yes, the list", he rumbled patiently. "Your name is not on the list of Narnians who have requested a royal audience at petty court. The Kings and Queens are hearing complaints this afternoon."

"Oh", Tumnus breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's all right, then." He leaned forward onto the desk and gave the bear a friendly smile. The bear just stared at him with a polite, rather vacant look in his dark eyes. "I do not have a complaint", the Faun explained, becoming somewhat flustered under that unbroken stare.

"I see." The bear folded his massive paws on the oaken desk and inclined his head politely. "May I ask, then, why you are at Cair Paravel?"

"I've come with news to deliver _personally_ to the Kings and Queens." If Tumnus had expected his words to impress the listener, he was sorely disappointed. The bear merely gave him a bland smile and said nothing. "It is _important_", the Faun insisted, growing more and more anxious that he would not be able to deliver his news at all.

"Important?" The brown bear stared at him sceptically, and Tumnus flushed scarlet. True, he did not look like anybody of consequence. But he was a personal friend of Queen Lucy's! He said as much to the bear, whose courteous expression did not even flicker.

"Did you write ahead to Her Majesty?"

"I – ah – well, I – I was in too much of a hurry to see her, that I – well, I suppose I forgot", the Faun finally admitted, blushing even more furiously. He knew what he must look like: just some simple Narnian whose lifelong dream was to meet the Kings and Queens face-to-face. No wonder the bear did not believe him.

The bear was, at the moment, looking about the room as if thinking of asking someone to usher Tumnus quietly out of the palace. In a panic, the Faun looked wildly around the room for anything to help. He was suddenly distracted by a large party of people and talking animals passing by the open archway. Among them he could see a glittering crown…

"King Edmund!" Tumnus shrieked, pelting across the antechamber, his hooves skidding on the smooth stone floor. There were yells of surprise behind him, and he heard an almighty crash as the bear stood up, knocking his chair over in alarm.

The young king had turned to see who was screaming at him, and his startled face broke out into a grin. He half-raised his hand, and the Narnian lords who had drawn their swords in quick defence of their King obediently sheathed them. But Tumnus hardly noticed that; he was too overcome by feelings of intense relief. "K – K – King Edmund", he panted, cursing the extra helping of bread and jam he'd had that morning. "I – I need to – to speak –"

"I am terribly sorry, Your Majesty", a clipped voice interrupted, and Tumnus felt his upper arm being encircled by a huge paw. "He will be escorted out at once." The Faun turned pleading brown eyes on King Edmund, who gave a slight frown.

"Downpelt", he said to the bespectacled bear, "Why in the Lion's name would you escort _Master Tumnus_ from Cair Paravel? He has done his country great service in his time, and is a dear friend to the Royal Family."

The Faun could not fully enjoy the look of dumbfounded surprise that spread over the bear's features, as he was facing the wrong way. But he couldn't help giving a complacent smile. Excited whispers swept through the antechamber; the other Narnians had been watching the scene with rapt attention, and were craning their necks to get a good view. One squirrel had already fainted dead away at setting eyes on King Edmund the Just.

At Downpelt's silence, the young king raised an eyebrow. "You are not acquainted with Master Tumnus, and the particular regard that we hold for him at court?"

For the third time in five minutes the Faun's cheeks went redder than raspberries, but this time he blushed with pleasure. The bear lowered his head and mumbled an apologetic reply, and King Edmund turned to the man standing next to him in mock exasperation. "Lord Peridan, can you explain why our clerk is so uninformed?"

"He is new, Your Majesty", the young lord replied, mouth twitching.

"Ah. No harm done, then. Master Tumnus, you may come with me."

The Faun walked through the archway and fell into step beside him, feeling awkward surrounded by all of the armed Lords and large carnivorous Beasts that made up King Edmund's guard. "You should have sent us word that you were coming", the King was saying. "We could have arranged a proper welcome, instead of a confrontation with a most dedicated clerk."

"Yes", Tumnus admitted sheepishly. "I was so excited that I forgot to send a message." King Edmund turned his head slightly towards him, but his expression did not change. "I have some important news to tell you all", the Faun said gleefully, practically skipping down the hallway.

Edmund smiled. "Perhaps it should wait until more can hear it", he offered. "Su and I have petty court all afternoon, and Lucy's not due back from her visit to the Dwarfs until dusk. I'm sorry Tumnus, but we're running all over the palace until dinner, and then Peter is dining separately with King Lune tonight. Suppose you tell us then? We shall pass the word on to our brother. What say you?"

Tumnus nodded happily. "Dinner, then."

_A/N: Here endeth chapter two, and the next one will, predictably, take place over dinner. That's probably Tumnus' favourite time of the day! Or evening. Whatever. Anyway, reviews always welcome!_


	3. The White Room

_A/N: Four reviews? We're up from two! Excellent! Love you all, by the way. Incidentally, have you guys noticed the little "Winnie-the-Pooh" inspired intros to each chapter? Don't miss the little "in which…" lines!_

_Disclaimer: I use Narnia solely for my personal enjoyment, and definitely do not expect to be paid for it!_

**Chapter 3: The White Room…**

…_in which Tumnus Attends Dinner, and Sees a Lot of First-Class Food go to Waste._

A Dwarf dressed in palace livery came to fetch Mr. Tumnus from the library, where he had spent the day in considerable comfort. A roaring fire, a squashy chair, and a nice thick book were enough to make any Faun happy, and it was with slight reluctance that Tumnus put down the book and followed the Dwarf.

They walked through a maze of winding halls, and just as the Faun was beginning to get seriously worried, he was finally shown into a small dining room. The walls were all white marble, which reflected the glimmering candlelight, and frothy white curtains hung at the tall arched windows. Tumnus nervously took a seat at the little square table, and had not waited long before the youngest Queen of Narnia arrived.

"Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy squealed, catching his hands in hers. "It has been almost a year, hasn't it? Ed told me about your visit. It is so good to see you again!"

The Faun beamed with delight, and exclaimed on how much she had grown since he last saw her. She, of course, wanted to know all about what he had been up to, clamouring for news about the Beavers. And Tumnus himself was most eager to hear of what she had been doing as Queen of Narnia. He listened with great pride as she described her goodwill visits to the Red Dwarfs, and the laws she had established to save good trees from being unnecessarily cut down. The two old friends were chattering like sparrows when King Edmund and Queen Susan finally entered. The two older siblings checked on the threshold, smiling fondly at the charming scene their little sister made with the Faun. "Should we interrupt them?" Edmund whispered sneakily, and Susan smiled and nodded.

After jolly greetings all around, the sumptuous meal was promptly brought in. The Faun's stomach rumbled at the mouth-watering aromas, and he could hardly wait for the servers to leave. The five courses were set on the table all at once, and the four diners were left to eat in peace. "This is a lovely room", Tumnus noted as he buttered a steaming roll.

"We use it whenever we wish to dine together privately", Queen Susan replied, unfolding her embroidered napkin. "Of course, evenings when all four of us are free are rare indeed."

Edmund poured glasses of wine for them all. "You were saying that you had some important news?" he asked Tumnus, and Susan and Lucy turned to the Faun expectantly.

Even though they were all great friends of his, Mr. Tumnus squirmed under the attention. "I – I do, actually", he stuttered, absentmindedly shredding his roll to pieces. "I saw something the other day…" He took a deep breath and proceeded to describe his encounter with the White Stag.

When he had finished, the three monarchs stared at him, completely lost for words. Finally, King Edmund cleared his throat. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly.

Queen Susan stared at the young King in disbelief. "Are you saying, brother, that you believe this?" she cried.

Hearing that remark, Queen Lucy recovered her voice. "And you do not believe Mr. Tumnus?" demanded the young lady. The Faun was quite gratified by the look of fierce indignation in her eyes, but chose to remain silent and let the siblings sort everything out between them. He sat lower in his chair and tried to make himself invisible, chewing on a honeycake as silently as possible lest he draw unwelcome attention.

"Oh, of course I believe him", Susan protested, flushing slightly at the accusation. She toyed distractedly with her fork, twisting the silver handle between elegant fingers. "That he saw a white stag I accept as true. But Lucy, what proof do we have that it was in fact _the _White Stag, who grants wishes to his captors?"

King Edmund broke in smoothly: "After what we have seen here in Narnia, sister, we should know better than anyone that nothing is impossible."

"It is a sign!" exclaimed Queen Lucy without warning, startling everyone else. Tumnus dropped his goblet in alarm, but Lucy did not notice – her face was rapt and shining. "Do you not see?" she pressed. "Mr. Tumnus, remember when you told me those stories about what Narnia was like before the White Witch? You remember, do you not?"

The Faun's cheeks reddened when three sets of eyes focused on him once more, but he gulped and managed to nod.

"He told me all sorts of things", Lucy continued, ignorant of the confused looks on her siblings' faces, "About the dances during the Summer Festivals, and about treasure-hunting, and about Bacchus and Father Christmas. Do you not understand? All of these things have come back, so the return of the White Stag means that Narnia is becoming what it once was again!"

Tumnus marvelled at Lucy's theory. He would never have thought of that in a hundred years! This young lady was clever, and no mistake. He could see it now: it was true that ever since the thrones at Cair Paravel had been filled, things had slowly been reverting to the way they had been long ago. It was almost as though there had never even been a White Witch.

But the elder Queen was shaking her beautiful head. "It is only – well – the White Stag is a legend", she reasoned patiently. "By all accounts it disappeared over a hundred years ago."

"How is the appearance of the White Stag any different from that of Father Christmas?" Lucy argued. Before her sister could retort, Edmund held up a placating hand and gave a small smile.

"Either way", the young king said, "I say we have a crack at catching it. If it is indeed the White Stag, then we all earn our wishes. And if it is not, then whoever catches the stag earns bragging rights."

Lucy laughed delightedly, and Susan couldn't help but smile in consent. "Let us tell Peter!" Lucy grinned. "He would not be able to pass up such a challenge."

Susan made a face. "He had better not win", she agreed. "I do not think I could stand the weeks of boasting that would follow." The two Queens lapsed into peals of laughter.

"Who says that he will win?" asked Edmund playfully. He gave a wicked smile. "In fact, you girls wait in the castle – I'll get the stag myself!"

The Queens shrieked in mock indignation, and Lucy threw a roll at her brother. What had started as a perfectly civil dinner dissolved into a riotous food-fight, with a startled Tumnus taking shelter beneath the table.

_A/N: Don't worry, Tumnus managed to grab some food before taking cover; he won't go to bed hungry tonight, so there's no need to fret! Hope you liked Ed's movie reference. In the next chapter, our intrepid Kings and Queens leave for the hunt, and – but that would be giving it away. Reviews are much appreciated, as always! They actually motivate me to update sooner ;)_


	4. The White Morning

_A/N: Five reviews for the last chapter? Excellent! Slowly but steadily the review count is increasing… it makes me want to rub my hands together and cackle with glee. But I won't. Instead, I give you chapter 4._

_Disclaimer: Let's be frank. If I claimed that I owned Narnia, would you believe me? I didn't think so._

**Chapter 4: The White Morning…**

…_in which Tumnus realizes that he made a Very Grave Mistake, and Feels Ashamed._

The Narnian court had gathered the next morning to see off their monarchs. It was a splendid party that was riding out: The Kings and Queens were mounted on their best horses, accompanied by the principal members of their court. Golden horns sparkled among the brightly-dressed company, and spotted hounds frisked around the horses' legs.

The air was full of cheerful jokes and wishes of good luck. The Kings teased one another loudly about who would be the first to catch the Stag, and Queen Susan smiled kindly on the promises of the Narnian Lords, who vowed to catch the Stag for her.

Tumnus was standing near the back of the crowd, too bashful to approach the merry group. He managed to catch Queen Lucy's eye, and waved his handkerchief at her. She grinned and waved back excitedly. The trumpet sounded for the party to be off. "I'll make a wish for you, Mr. Tumnus!" the young lady called, before wheeling around her mare and galloping off with the rest of company, golden hair flying behind her. The Faun watched until they were out of sight.

The autumn morning had dawned white, with the sky completely encased in a washed-out layer of pearly cloud. The air was now cool and crisp, and orange leaves crunched beneath Tumnus' cloven hooves as he walked back to the palace He wondered idly what he should do to pass the time until the hunting party's return, and eagerly anticipated listening to their account of the adventure.

XXXXX

It was early afternoon when the courtiers returned to Cair Paravel. Tumnus rushed from the comforts of the library to greet them, and was disappointed at the absence of the monarchs. The courtiers explained that their horses had all tired, except for the incomparable mounts of the Kings and Queens. Lord Peridan had been the last to leave their side.

"They were most eager to follow the stag", he told the rest of the court, "And were adamant that they should continue, even alone." There were many exasperated groans and good-natured chortles; the Narnians well knew their rulers' penchant for adventure.

"They will be safe in Narnia", another lord said confidently. "Nobody would dare attack them, and they are perfectly capable of fending for themselves. We can expect them back later this afternoon."

But hours passed, and the Kings and Queens did not appear.

A search party was quickly organized and dispatched from the palace, with Mr. Tumnus among them. Lord Peridan led the party to where he had last seen the Kings and Queens, and the Narnians branched out in small groups to efficiently sweep the area.

Within a few minutes of searching, Sallowpad the raven started to caw.

At the sound, Tumnus sprinted through the undergrowth, oblivious to the thorns that cut into his legs and sides. He skidded to a stop, spraying dirt and leaves everywhere, and one of the ladies-in-waiting shot him a glare which he ignored. "What has happened?" he demanded, puffing and blowing. "Have they been found?"

Sallowpad merely inclined his dark head, and Tumnus looked in the direction that he had indicated. Four magnificent horses were tied to trees that bordered the edge of a thicket.

With the entire search party gathered, the lords and ladies dismounted and everyone struck off into the trees. Tumnus walked behind Lord Peridan and thus nearly ran into the man when he halted suddenly. The Faun edged around the young lord and gasped at what he saw.

An old pillar of iron stood in the midst of the young trees.

Humans, Dwarfs, Nymphs, Centaurs, Satyrs, Fauns, and Talking Beasts, all gathered about the lamppost exclaiming in surprise and wonder.

"What in Aslan's name is it?"

"I have never seen a tree like this before."

"That is not a tree, my lord."

"Do you see that light at the top?"

"How peculiar!"

But Mr. Tumnus stood by quietly without saying a word. He knew, with a terrible certainty, what the others did not: King Peter the Magnificent, Queen Susan the Gentle, King Edmund the Just, and Queen Lucy the Valiant had undoubtedly returned to the bright city of War Drobe, in the sunny land of Spare Oom.

He did not share these unhappy thoughts, and it was with a very heavy heart that he resumed what he knew to be a fruitless search.

The party was forced to return to the palace when the sun had set, and Tumnus went straight up to his guestroom and locked the door. Many Narnians remained in the Western Woods, searching among the trees by torchlight, but they would not find the Kings and Queens. Although he was utterly miserable, Tumnus bravely told himself over and over: "They will return in due time. Hasn't Lucy returned to me before? She came back from Spare Oom when she was a little girl. Queen Lucy can bring her brothers and sister back with her this time."

These repeated reminders worked for a time, until he tried to go to sleep. In the lonely silence, as the darkness of the night pressed around him, all of his doubts returned in full force. Tumnus lay curled in a strange bed in Cair Paravel, and wept inconsolably. He knew that it was all his fault – he should never have suggested that the Kings and Queens go out to hunt the White Stag by themselves. He should have gone with them! He would not have abandoned them as easily as those inordinately stupid courtiers!

Tumnus wiped his streaming eyes on the ragged end of his muffler, which was hanging limply from his bedpost. After an hour of squirming and whimpering, and absolutely no sleeping, he threw back the bedcovers and trotted across the cold room to sit by the window.

From his perch he could hear muffled shouts, carried on the bitter night air. Word had somehow leaked of the disappearance, and most of Narnia was now in a panic; creatures of all shapes and sizes were out scouring the entire land for their lost monarchs. Tumnus felt an odd sort of warmth at this evidence of fierce devotion, but choked back a sob as he thought of all those loyal Narnians searching in vain.

And nobody knew that he was the cause of all this!

The Faun looked bleakly out over the Eastern Sea, and sniffed loudly. "Come back, Lucy", he whispered, his voice breaking.

_A/N: Poor Mr. Tumnus! I think our little Faun needs a group hug! …Okay, you guys can let go now… guys?_

_Well anyway, there's another chapter coming up, never fear! I will show all of your reviews to Mr. Tumnus, and hopefully they'll cheer him up somewhat. Not only that, but they will cheer me up, too!_


	5. The White Hall

_A/N: Big thanks to everyone who reviewed! This new chapter was a lot of fun to write, and I really don't know why. Maybe I just take pleasure in tormenting poor innocent little Narnians. Hmm…_

_Disclaimer: You know, the mere act of typing the word "disclaimer" tells you clever readers that I do not in fact own any of C. S. Lewis' works. So… "Disclaimer"!_

**Chapter 5: The White Hall…**

…_in which Tumnus sees Another Astonishing Sight, and experiences a Severe Sense of Guilt._

In the early dawn of the next morning, Tumnus was awoken by a loud commotion. Panicked voices floated up to his room, but he could not make out the words.

He grumbled and rolled over, muffling his ears with a pillow. Then the rational part of his mind decided to speak up, speculating that the fuss simply had to be about the Kings and Queens. At this sudden thought, Tumnus tried to leap out of bed. His hoof caught on the blankets and he was sent sprawling to the floor. A minor tussle with the bedding ensued, with neither side showing any promise of victory, and it was quite a while before the Faun managed to extricate himself. Wrapping his patched red muffler haphazardly about his neck, he scurried down the hall, hooves clicking on the marble floors.

He had not slept very well, and was still feeling very disoriented. Rubbing sleep blearily from reddened eyes, the Faun managed to find his way down to the main hall without too much trouble. He made as if to enter, but stopped still in the entranceway: The room was full of Narnians, all arguing, sobbing, or simply staring at nothing in mute shock.

"What in the world is going on?" he demanded, very alarmed. This could definitely not be good. He had to repeat his question several times, yet remained unheard amongst all the tumult. Finally losing his temper completely, the Faun threw his muffler to the ground and stomped on it, bellowing, "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Everybody stopped and turned to stare at him. The echoes of his yells were still ringing through the white hall. Tumnus fixed his face into a frown and glared about the room, but most of the Narnians avoided his gaze. Those who managed to meet his eyes simply looked at him sadly, and nobody would say a word. The Faun was beginning to get extremely annoyed with the lot of them. What did they not want to tell him?

Finally, one of the Naiads waved a silvery arm at the front of the Hall, and two large centaurs moved out of the way so that Tumnus could get a clear view. The Faun's brown eyes shot open, and he gave a great cry of surprise.

The four thrones had _vanished_.

"Th – they're – they're gone!" he stammered, looking about wildly as if expecting to see the thrones leaning against the wall somewhere. But they were nowhere to be found. He was half-hoping that one of the centaurs would start laughing and explain that they were merely playing a joke – a very cruel joke – but of course no such thing happened. "The thrones have gone", he repeated weakly into the silence. His knees were trembling, and he had to put a hand on a table to steady himself. If there had been a mirror nearby, Tumnus would have seen that he was now wearing the same expression of utter shock that was present on everybody's face.

"Oh, who could have taken them?" a Hedgehog wailed suddenly, causing everyone to jump about a foot into the air. She buried her face in her spotted apron, shoulders heaving with noisy sobs. "The brutes – the brutes!" she howled. Everybody else shuffled their feet and looked uncomfortable.

A Dwarf patted her gingerly on the back, careful of her spikes. "Nobody took them, Daisy", he said gruffly, dabbing at his own tears with his hood. "They simply… disappeared during the night."

"Aslan took them", a hushed voice said. Tumnus turned to see Lord Peridan, who he had not noticed was present before. The young lord was leaning heavily against one of the pillars, arms crossed tightly over his chest as though he felt cold. "Aslan took the thrones", he repeated quietly. "That is the only explanation. Their Majesties will not be returning."

"Rubbish!" said a Pelican stoutly, clacking his yellow beak. He ruffled his white feathers to express his indignation. "They would not have gone just like that! They would have left word, or Aslan would have said something."

"Do you remember how they came to Narnia?" a Unicorn spoke up. She tossed her head, sunlight gleaming on her spiralled horn. "It was as if they had fallen out of the sky. What makes you think they could not have departed thus?"

"They may yet come back", quavered an old Tortoise hopefully.

One of the Dryads shook her head, long willowy hair swishing. "Those thrones have been sitting there, empty, since the prophecy was made. If they are gone now…" She turned away, unable to complete the thought.

Sallowpad the Raven blinked his beady eyes. "It is an old saying: fear can hold you prisoner, but hope can set you free. We must keep faith, and hope that their Majesties will be returning." The room fell silent, apart from Daisy's muffled sobs, as everyone pondered Sallowpad's words.

It was the Unicorn who voiced the question that was on everybody's mind: "And if they do not return?"

The Raven stretched his wings in an uncharacteristically hopeless shrug. "What does Master Tumnus say?" he croaked.

"Wha – er – pardon?" the Faun asked distractedly. He had hardly listened to the debate; his eyes had been fixed on the empty dais at the head of the room.

"What are your thoughts, Master Tumnus?" Peridan repeated gently, and the rest of the Narnians watched the Faun, expressions of curiosity, hope, dread, and longing on their faces.

Tumnus turned his eyes back to the empty place where the four thrones had once stood. That sight, more than anything, told him he would never see his friends again. Sunlight streamed through the windows and the breeze came fresh off the sea, but the Faun's little heart was on the verge of breaking. He hung his curly head, and tears trickled silently down his cheeks.

"It is finished", he said into the silence.

The Golden Age of Narnia had ended.

And Tumnus the Faun, lowly servant to Cair Paravel, faithful Narnian, and dear friend to the Kings and Queens, knew that he was the one responsible for this.

_A/N: Before you all go rushing to dab Mr. Tumnus' perfect tears from his little cheeks, let me remind you that there is an _epilogue_ coming up! Yay! All right, I'm done reminding, so pull out your hankies and dab away. Poor Tumnus; this is the second consecutive chapter that he ended in tears… do you see a pattern? Oh, and if you leave a review by the way, I will be Very Happy._


	6. Epilogue

_A/N: This so-called "epilogue" is chapter-length. Blame my muse. Sometimes, she just doesn't know when to shut up… Before we continue with the story, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. You are all Very Cool People, and deserve more gratitude than I can put in my replies._

_Disclaimer: I hate writing these. Suffice to say, I write about Narnia for entertainment purposes only – But if you really do want to pay me, all cheques can be made out to "Sanaryelle"!_

**Epilogue…**

…_in which Tumnus Refines the Noble Art of Babbling, and becomes Happy Again._

Mr. Tumnus plucked blackberries from the bushes, dropping the squishy fruit into his basket with purple-stained fingers. Every so often he would heave a deep sigh, and stare at the hillock that rose through the trees a short distance away. It was the very place where he had seen the White Stag not even a year ago. Most unfortunate that a spot associated with bad memories stood so close to the best blackberry bushes in Western Narnia.

"Tumnus."

The Faun gave a loud yelp and jumped backwards – right into the spiny bushes. He gave a second, louder yelp, and scrambled hastily out of the prickles, stepping into the fallen berry basket in his hurry. Sticky purple mush coated his leg over the pastern, but he barely noticed.

Tumnus gulped once or twice, his brown eyes huge. "As – As – _Aslan_?" he stammered.

The lion smiled.

"Aslan! Why have you come?" Tumnus cried. "Oh – I suppose it is because of what happened last autumn, is it not?"

Aslan merely looked at him, gaze tender and mild.

"I cannot forgive myself, _ever_", the Faun babbled on. "I mean, _I_ told the Kings and Queens about the White Stag! _Me_! But… but I expect they would have found out about it, anyway… And I suppose they still would have hunted it themselves, what with the stag not being spotted for over a hundred years…"

The lion cocked his golden head to one side, dark eyes gleaming.

"But why did they have to leave, Aslan?" Tumnus demanded. "Although – I suspect you had something to do with it. Because of you did not want them to leave, they wouldn't have, correct? And that means it really _was_ their time to leave, wasn't it?"

If Tumnus had been paying more attention, he would have noticed the amused sparkle in Aslan's eyes.

"So if it _was_ their time, I suppose there was nothing I could have done about it anyway", prattled the Faun. "Besides, Spare Oom is their world just as Narnia is mine. They belong there, really, and I suppose I always knew deep in my heart that they had to return _someday_." Tumnus' voice was quivering with emotion. "I had only hoped, Aslan, that they could have stayed here forever. Narnia flourished under their rule, and only now has it been restored to its former glory…" The Faun's brown eyes widened in sudden realization. "_That_ was their mission", he gasped, "To save Narnia and fulfill the prophecy! And now they have, so they can go home!"

The lion smiled. "I see that you need no words from me", he declared, resonant voice thrumming through Tumnus' very bones.

"Actually", whispered the Faun, suddenly remembering his place, and more than a little ashamed of blathering on in front of _Aslan_ of all people. "I do have one little question…"

"Yes, they will return", Aslan said kindly, "But not in your time. That is not your story."

The Faun lowered his curly head, and several round tears dripped off the end of his nose. He suddenly frowned when he saw that his hoof was covered in blackberry pulp. "Bother", he muttered, trying to extricate it from the mess that had once been a serviceable basket.

"Have faith", he heard the lion say, "And you will see her once more."

Tumnus looked up, but Aslan had gone. The Faun bit his lip as he pondered what the lion had just said, and a slow smile spread over his features. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and dear Lucy were back where they belonged. Why should he be sad? And Aslan had told him that he would see Lucy again! He had no idea what that was all about, but if Aslan said something you had better well believe it.

Feeling happier than he had ever felt since autumn, Tumnus wrenched the mangled remains of the basket from his hoof and set off back to his little cave, whistling a merry tune.

**End.**

_A/N: He's happy, all right? _Happy!_ So you don't have to scoop him up in your arms and comfort him – that's my job! ;) Also, I think Tumnus has had enough sadness in this story; the poor guy deserves some joy after all of that._

_On a more normal note, thanks so much for reading this story. I welcome reviews of all shapes and sizes; they delight me far more than any little email should. And thanks also for enduring my Author's Notes and Disclaimers!_

_-Sanaryelle_


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